Wilson, House, and Wilson
by evila-elf
Summary: Wilson gets House a kitten and we continue from there. What else does Wilson remember?
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE**: Wilson, House, and Wilson

**AUTHOR**: evila-elf

**PAIRING**: House/Wilson friendship.

**RATING**: PG to PG-13

**WARNINGS**: Mainly a friendship fic with bits of slash tossed in :P

**SUMMARY**: Wilson gets House a kitten, and we go from there.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own them. Sobs NOTES: (if any)

**Chapter 1**

House is in the process of pouring himself a drink when a hesitant knock sounds on his door. He doesn't feel like company. He never does. Everyone knows this, but there is only one person who ignores that not-so-polite request—James Wilson.

Wilson takes a step back when he hears someone readying to open the door. He is carrying a plain brown box and stands sideways in an effort to protect it. Once House had mistook him for a salesman in the poor light, and he didn't want to have the wrath of the cane damage his package. The box.

"Julie kick you out again?" House says in way of greeting.

"She has never kicked me out. We have had a—disagreement, and I left to get some fresh air." With a frustrated glare, he pushes past his friend and sets the box down on a magazine cluttered table. He gestures to the box. "I brought you something." He puts his easy-going smile back in place as he crosses his arms.

"Wouldn't happen to be a mail order bride in there, would it?" A scratching sound comes from within the box and he frowns at it. "And why is my new bride trying to get out? Can I shake it?"

"I don't think it would appreciate that." Wilson laughs at the look on House's face. "Open it already!" he exclaims impatiently.

With a sideways glance, he sits down on the sofa and gives the box a long hard look. Only one way to find out what is in it. He snaps the little pieces of Scotch tape holding the flaps together and peers inside. A pair of blue eyes stare back at him. A staring contest begins. "What is that?" he asks, interested, amused, and disgusted, all at the same time.

Wilson walks over to the box and lifts out a fluffy gray and black…

"Kitten?" House states the obvious as the small creature is placed on his lap. It mewls at him, wanting some attention after its confinement. He makes no move to touch it as he looks down at it. "Why is there a kitten on me?" he asks as the kitten makes a leap at his shirt-sleeve and tumbles off his lap onto the couch cushions.

"I figured you could use the company," Wilson says with a shrug, doing nothing to hide his grin.

"That's what I have you for."

Wilson turns to head out the door.

"Where are you going?" House asks, a touch of panic in his voice.

"To get his stuff."

"He has stuff?"

Wilson nods, raising his eyebrows and speaking very slowly. "He needs his food, some toys, and his litter box."

House wrinkles his nose and waits for Wilson to tell him that it is all a joke. He is still waiting when Wilson returns with several large sacks. When he leaned them up against the couch and turns again towards the door, House asks, "Now where are you going?"

"Home."

"But—what am I supposed to do with it?"

"Set his food dish up where you aren't going to step in it, his litter box where you aren't going to smell it, and play with him if you value your furniture."

House blinks.

"What are you going to name him?" Wilson asks, changing the subject.

House sighs and watches the critter leap at the coffee table, miss and fall on the floor where it squeaked and mewled in disgust. "Wilson."

"Hmmm?"

"The kitten. Going to call it Wilson." He smirks.

"Wilson it is," he sighed. No point in arguing. "Isn't that going to get confusing?"

"The cat will learn soon enough when I am addressing him."

"I was talking about for me."

"Wilson stop playing under the table. Wilson stop scratching the furniture. Wilson don't play in the litter box. Wilson, if you give me fleas I will kill you." He raises his eyebrows.

"Point taken."

"I hope you are naming him after me because I am cuddly and loveable." Wilson deadpans.

House follows his gaze to look at the newly-named-Wilson. All he can see of the kitten are his tail, back paws, and butt as he slowly slides down the side of the couch. Then he looks back at his friend, giving him a pointed stare.

The kitten now sits on the floor, looking from one human to the other: The one who stuffed him into that small box, and the other who's smell is on everything. The two humans seem to like each other a great deal. He is surprised that they aren't rubbing up against each other with the type of vibe the two are putting off.

The kitten mews, cutting off House mid-snipe. Wilson stands up and picks up the kitten, depositing him back on the couch. He sits down and watches the kitten dig it's little claws into House's shirt and scale him like a mountain climber.

Not thinking that the man would allow him to climb up his face, Wilson settles down on a shoulder and curls up.

"I think he likes you," Wilson says, grinning.

"I have a way with Wilsons."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**SUMMARY**: Wilson gets House a kitten, and we go from there.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own them. _Sobs_

**Note**: I figured that I might as well put up this part since it is already at my LJ. Glad you all seem to be liking it :-D

**Chapter 2**

After several attempts and false starts, Wilson finally manages to leave. The kitten is still curled up against House's neck. "You can get off of me any time."

A contented purr begins.

House uses his cane to pull himself to his feet and Wilson claws a hold on House's shirt to keep from tipping off. House picks up one of the plastic sacks and deposits it on the dining table. "What do we have here," he muses. "Food dishes and…three different types of cat food. How thoughtful." After giving each type the sniff test, he shrugs and pours some of each onto one of the plastic bowls and fills up the second with water. He scans the room for a good location, shrugs again, and leaves them on the table. Then he nudges the furball with one of his long fingers and feels a little barb-like claw poke his finger in return.

With the kitten finally eating from his bowl, House sets up the litter box. He is tempted to place it near the couch for when Wilson—the human—came over. . He resists the temptation--it hurts to be practical--and places it in the far corner of the room.

When Wilson finishes eating, House shows him the litter box and gives him a little 'where to crap' speech. He cuts the speech short when Wilson seems to be listening to him.

The next day, Wilson arrives at the hospital and starts to seek out House. He wants to ask him how the kitten is adjusting. A giggling nurse catches his attention and, when he turns to look at her, she immediately looks away, biting her lip to keep from smiling. Odd. Wilson walks on.

A group of young interns hush as the oncologist walks by. Several other nurses and doctors hide smiles, conversations, and their faces behind paperwork as he passes, further confusing him. When he finally finds House, he begins to make a mention of the oddities he had noticed. Then pauses. "What happened to your nose?" he says after staring a few seconds at the small bandage.

"Wilson bit me," House replies.

He blinks. "What?"

"Kitten, remember?"

"You have been telling the staff that _I_ bit you."

The statement was not meant as a question, but House feels the need to respond as such. "No. _Wilson_."

Chase chooses that moment to step into the office. He looks between the two doctors before timidly asking, "Am I interrupting something?" He sounds unsure of himself.

"Yes."

Wilson glares at House for his lack of elaboration.

"I can come back another time…" He takes a tiny step backwards towards the door. When the dumbfounded look on the oncologist's face and the smug look on House's face don't give way to conversation, he turns and zips away.

Wilson turns from the closed door to look at House. "See what you have started?"

"Started? The rumor mill has been going overtime with that one for years."

Wilson blinks, his expression saying a hundred words, most not repeatable.

"What rock have you been lying under these past few years?"

"Damn it." Wilson's curse lacks the proper strength and he sags into a chair. They had both, in the past, avoided talking about their deep friendship. Time to avoid a little longer. "Can you at least tell people that you have a cat?"

"And ruin my tough guy image? Never!"

Wilson signs. Another argument lost.

TBC

P.S Thanks for all the lovely reviews!


	3. Chapter 3

Bit of a short chapter here, enjoy anyways :P

Thanks again to all my reviewers! Also, to extrabitter: Wilson sending House to the ER would be quite fun! If I ever get through this fic, I may write some side stories, and I shall keep this in mind :D

Onwards and forewards! Enjoy!

**Chapter 3**

House doesn't report any more bitings, and Wilson isn't sure who to thank, House or the kitten. On Thursday, he swings by House's to visit after work.

It takes House a little longer to get to the door than normal. As the door is swung open, it pushes a toy jingly-ball out of the way. Wilson steps inside and surveys the room. "You only have one kitten, right? Looks like 20!" He shakes his head, bemused. "So where is it?"

House smacks the jingly-ball with his cane. Wilson darts out from behind the couch, smacks it once, then skids into the kitchen, the little bells in the ball loud against the linoleum. There was a dull thump.

"Is he okay?" Wilson asks.

As if to answer the question, the kitten returns from the kitchen, ball clutched in his tiny mouth, proud of his capture. House sits down on the couch and Wilson trots over, triumphant with his prize. He scales House's leg and dumps the ball next to him.

"You've had the kitten for less than a week and you have already taught him how to fetch?"

"Obviously." House scratches behind the kitten's ear.

Wilson sits down on the couch next to Wilson and lays his head back, eyes closed.

Curious about the new lump next to him, the kitten wanders a few paces closer to investigate. He sees something twitch and he crouches down, butt wiggling. Then he pounces.

The human Wilson yelps in surprise as his fingers are impaled by the tiny claws.

They yell startles the little cat. He leaps to the coffee table, falls off the edge, then scurries into the bedroom.

House starts to laugh.

"Am I going to need to wear gloves from now on?" Wilson complains as he rubs his hand.

House laughs harder.

"_Now_ what is funny?"

"Wilson has to wear protection for when he comes over to visit."

The oncologist groans.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Warnings**: There is a touch of slash towards the end of this chapter. Before you flee in panic (hehe), the rest of the chapters I have written so far are no more slashy than the first 3 (not for lack of trying!)

**Other stuff**: See first chapter :)

Thx to all my reviewers so far! Surprised you guys like it that much!

Oh, and enjoy!

**Chapter 4 **

"Maybe getting you a kitten wasn't such a good idea after all."

"What? I'm too chipper for you?"

"Yes. It's scary."

The two are sitting in House's office. The ducklings have been split off to different areas of the hospital, running tests on their newest patient.

"Got to keep you on your toes. Toes…" he muses, getting lost in his own thoughts for a brief moment. "Toes…time to page the ducklings." And he was gone.

On Saturday, Wilson comes over to spend a little time with House and Wilson on their day off. He opens the door, not sure why he decides not to knock. He closes the door as quietly as he had opened it and pauses. A moment later, he hears jingling.

Wilson, jingly ball in mouth, gallops across the living room. Seeing the familiar human, he stops. Not dropping the ball, he makes a squeaky sound, a 'hello,' and sits down, waiting.

"Where's House?" the human whispers, crouching down to pet the kitten.

He drops the ball and heads towards the kitchen.

Wilson picks up the ball and silently follows. He finds House reading the newspaper at the table. With slow movements, he holds the ball out by his friend's ear and shakes it.

House jumps, nearly splitting the paper in two. "Wilson!" he begins to yell at the cat, then "Wilson?" when he notices his friend.

Wilson sits down at the table and stares at the cat dishes in front of himself. "I thought you were more sanitary-conscious than this."

House frowns, still angry about the fright, and folds his paper. His eyes soften when he notices how tired his friend looks. "Happy to have Julie gone for the weekend?"

Wilson nods to the table, or precisely a kibble of cat food on said table.

"Hungry?"

"Not for cat food."

"We have 3 different flavors! Call out for pizza?"

Wilson doesn't feel like eating; he just wants to be with his friend and relax, but he agrees to pizza. "Anything but anchovies."

They eat the pizza in silence. The kitten crawls into Wilson's lap and mews for an ear scratch.

House watches both his Wilsons. The silence was starting to get uncomfortable.

Wilson feels it too. Just when he is about to scream and break the silence, House stands and limps towards the piano. He wipes his hands on his pants, cracks his knuckles and begins to play. Wilson turns and lays down on the couch. He loves to hear his friend play, but would feel extremely silly if he requested the older man play a tune for him. So this is a rare occasion. He closes his eyes and lets the music wash over him. He is so absorbed in the music that he doesn't even notice when it stops…

…He does, however, notice a presence on the couch, the dipping and shifting of another body. He opens his eyes and sees House leaning over him, a smug smile on his face. Wilson frowns, confused, not sure if he should like that look he is being given or be terrified of it. Well, a _part_ of him is liking it, he registers with alarm. House leans nearer, the closeness silencing Wilson before he can speak. A soft pair of lips are pressed down against his own and he closes his eyes, shuddering at the pleasure he is feeling.

House leans up, planting a kiss on his forehead, then nips the end of his nose. Hard.

Wilson's eyes shoot open and he blinks at the fur ball sitting on his stomach. "Wilson?" he questions the cat, disbelief in his voice.

House chooses that moment to enter the room from the kitchen, a steaming mug of black coffee in his hand. "Did Wilson wake you up, Wilson?" He smirks as he takes a sip of the coffee.

Wilson—the person, not the cat—swallows and scoots into an upright position, dislodging Wilson—the cat, not the person—and dumping him onto the floor, where he huffs indignantly and marches off in search of his own lunch.

"Having a good dream?"

"What?" he tries to keep the panic and a stab of guilt from his voice.

"Must have been a Hell of a girl to make you moan like that."

TBC

(A/N: That last scene was one of the first I wrote for this story!)


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, this chapter is a bit shorter than I planned, but the events of next chapter have to have their own chapter :-) This also ends a bit suddenly, but I am too hyped up over Chapter 6, 7...et al Sorry hehe.

Additional information can be found in chapter 1

Enjoy :D

**Chapter 5**

It is over a week before Wilson gets the nerve to set foot at House's place again. He had seen Greg at work no less than usual, but just something about that couch…He shivers and knocks on the door. His wife was home, in a nasty mood, and he just had to get away from her.

He knocks again and the door finally opens. He starts to speak, but nobody is there. He looks down. "Wilson?"

Mew! The cat greets him happily.

Then he hears laughter and relaxes. He feels like an idiot for even thinking that the kitten had opened the door. Wilson bends down and picks him up. "What have you been feeding him?" He closes the door to find his friend standing behind it. "He has grown a lot in a week!"

"Must be the kitty chow."

The phone rings and House limps over to it. "Hello? Yes he is," House speaks into the phone with a smirk. "Are you sure?" He has to hold the phone away from his ear, then holds it out to Wilson. "Your wife; the ray of sunshine."

Wilson rubs a hand over his face, then takes the phone. "I didn't walk out on the conversation. No. _You_ closed the bathroom door. _That_ ended the conversation." House seems way too interested in the conversation, so Wilson walks away and towards the kitchen.

"Maybe she could use a hug?" House speaks to the remaining Wilson, who mews as if in agreement.

A moment later, Wilson returns to the living room, trying his best to relax his tense muscles. "She wants me to come home so we can finish our discussion. I.E. she wants to yell at me some more." He sits on the couch.

"What is so important that she dares to call _here_?"

"The dishwasher is broken and I refuse to spend two hours trying to fix it myself because the repair guy can't get to it until Tuesday," he says in one breath.

"Buy a new one."

"The one we have is good--"

"Yeah, except that it isn't working."

"Hand-washing things for several days isn't going to kill her."

"Might kill _you_," House points out.

Wilson leaps onto Wilson's lap. He is ignored. He doesn't like being ignored. He sees something shiny and chews on it.

"I—ow!" Wilson looks down and shakes the kitten off his hand. "Wilson was trying to eat my wedding ring!"

House laughs. For five minutes. Both Wilson's wait for him to finish and to pay attention to them.

**TBC**

**A/N**: Glad those of you who responded liked the dream in the last chapter. Hope it didn't scare any of you away. I had really planned on the whole story being slashy, but it just wont fit in anywhere.

To **g**, who said that kitten Wilson is cute: Both Wilson's are :-P


	6. Chapter 6

Again, a huge thank you to all the people who have reviewed! Hope you all like this chapter as well as I do, and sorry for the cliff-hanger! The next parts need a lot of revising, so it may be a tad longer between chapter, and again, sorry 'bout that. :-P

Enjoy!

**Chapter 6**

Wilson is leaving the house on time for a change. Early in fact. He pauses as he hears the phone ring. Julie answers it, like he knows she would. He is about to head out the door, when she calls out his name.

A frown is on her face. "It's Greg," she says, tossing the phone towards him, still pissed from the dishwasher incident.

_Thank God it is a portable_, he thinks as he is barely able to catch the phone, accidentally pushing several buttons in the process. "Hello?"

"Did she throw the phone at you again?"

"_To_ me."

"Need you over here, pronto. Wilson won't let me leave."

"What?"

"He is hissing at me and won't let go of my pant leg."

Wilson signs, turns off the phone, and tosses it on the couch. Julie will find it later. He heads over to House's, mainly out of curiosity than the urge to help. He knocks on the door once before opening it.

"Pry him off and hold him for me." House speaks before Wilson is completely in the door.

"What did you do to him this morning?" Wilson asks examining the kitten, his claws deep into the denim.

"Which one of us are you asking? I didn't do anything to him. He decided to throw a hissy fit, quite literally."

"So the fur ball is somehow stopping you from going to work?"

"See how well _you_ do at removing him." House pivots so his Wilson-clad leg is pointing towards his friend.

Wilson crouches down and starts to grab the cat. He receives a hiss in greeting and a nip to his fingers. "Wilson!"

"Awww. Is the poooor wittle kitty too much for you?"

Wilson makes another attempt. He fails. "Okay, take off your pants!"

"Not for you or anybody!" House declares.

**15 minutes later…**

Wilson, with Wilson gripped tightly in his hands, watches House hurry for the door. The cat is frantically try to wiggle free. In a last ditch attempt, he bites Wilson's thumb hard enough to draw blood.

With a curse and a "What the Hell is wrong with you?" Wilson lets go and the cat falls to the floor and dives towards the door. He reaches it just as it closes in his face. He claws at the door for a moment in the hope that his human would return. He then turns and looks at the remaining human.

"Don't expect any favors from me," Wilson says angrily to the cat, dabbing his bleeding digit. "Are you going to let me by?"

Swish, swish went Wilson's tail as he sits blocking the door. In other words, no.

Wilson sighs and sits down. So much for being early to work. He figures a few minutes more wouldn't kill him. He watches Wilson go back to scratching at the door and mewing like crazy. "Fine!" he growls, annoyed. He doesn't want to admit it, but the cat is making him worried. "On several conditions: No more biting, scratching, kicking, and you stay in my office the whole time!"

"Nyow?" Well, it sounded like a question.

"Yes, the whole time and…again, why am I talking to a cat?" he sighs. He picks Wilson up and takes him to the car, dumping him in the passenger seat. "House is never going to forgive me," he moans, starting up the car and backing from the lot.

Taking a deep breath, he tucks the kitten under one arm, keeping a death grip on him with the other, and enters PPTH. He is tempted to try and sneak in, but that would just look silly. He doesn't do the 'sneak' very well.

No one pays much attention to him, except for Cuddy. A small fabrication about letting some of the children in his ward pet the cat soothed her. Some of the children _would_ love to see the kitten, so it wasn't a complete lie.

Wilson has only been sitting down for 5 minutes before kitten-Wilson gives a pitiful "Mew," and human-Wilson wanted to smack himself for his lack of planning. "Hungry?"

A purr and a rub against his arm in answer.

"House must talk to you non-stop." He stands and goes to open the door…

…only to be nearly tripped as the kitten bolts from the room.

"Shit!" Wilson takes up the chase. He wonders how the kitten knows which way it is to get to House's office. Until he sails past it. The human spares a glance, but the room is empty.

Wilson, the cat, flies into one of the examination rooms, the door slightly ajar. He skids to a stop, fur sticking up on end, and hisses. James catches up and runs into the room just in time to see the cat leap at someone, hear a shout of "Wilson!" and is not sure if it was directed at him or that cat. Then all he can see is a revolver as it turns away from House's head towards his own.

Then the gun goes off as the sound of several shouts, a scream, a curse, and a cat's distressed yowl fill the room.

Pain…

….falling….

…….blackness….

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks to all of you who reviewed the last chapter! Made me afraid to step foot here without another part!

Couple quick notes to a few reviewers:

_Buzzkill Bunny—_I tried once to read The Cat Who series a long time ago. I work at the library and I do see them go out quite often. Maybe in a year I will get my reading all caught up :P

_G_--Sorry if this disappoints. There is a twist. Hope that makes up for it :)

I wish I could add in some more comments, but I do hope thatno one fell from the edge of theirseat and hurt themselves, glad I have gotten little Wilson's behaviors down, and I laugh at Sydedalus' story! And abig hug to the rest of you!

I am doing something a little different with this part and the next--mainly making it first person.

**Chapter 7**

My head hurts. Funny how pain is one of the first senses to return. Panic overcomes me as I go to rub a hand over my face and find I can't move my left arm. Opening my eyes is difficult. I turn, wanting to see what is wrong with the limb, but I can't seem to open my damn eyes!

My hearing returns to me next in the form of the blips from the heart monitor and the oxygen pump, both soothing and yet annoying at the same time.

I feel a pressure on my chest. It moves. A growl of "Wilson" perks my curiosity. This curiosity overpowers the stubbornness of my closed eyes and I manage to crack them open.

"Why is there a cat on me?" I ask, voice scratchy and dry from disuse, not realizing that I had heard the same words spoken to me before less than a month ago.

Turning my head to the right, I see a man. He had been in the process of grabbing the little kitten off of me, but now he has stopped in mid-grab upon hearing my voice. He looks like he hasn't slept in several days, the look oddly suiting him. His face cracks into a relieved smile. "You're back!" he exclaims. "Why did you have to bring Wilson with you?" He pauses to jab a finger at the kitten still sitting on me. "He always manages to get himself in trouble!"

His smile leaves at my next words…I speak them without thinking: "Who are you?"

_A/N: I really wanted to end the chapter here. Thank me for being nice :P_

"Please tell me that you are just trying to give me my second heart attack in less than a week," he says leaning in, eyes searching mine for something, or maybe someone.

I look away, the openness of his gaze unsettling.

He mumbles a curse and stands up, reaching for a cane propped up against my bed. "Be right back," he mumbles, hurrying from the room as fast as his handicap would allow.

"Who was that?" I wonder aloud, getting the kitten's attention to turn to me.

"Woaww," it says, sounding sad.

I start to reach out to pet it, and am suddenly reminded that my left arm refuses to obey my commands. I finally turn to get a look. The arm is wrapped in a thick bandage from wrist to elbow. It is tied to a stiff board. I try again to move it and can't tell if it is tied down or if what little strength I have left is absent.

A doctor enters. "House is freaking out. You seriously don't remember?" His accent is thick. Australian.

"Am I the type to make a joke out of something like this?" I answer.

"If you spend too much time with House, maybe." He notices the kitten on my stomach and leans close to have a look. "Whose cat?"

The kitten tries to answer the question by swatting at a strand of the Australian's long hair, giving him cause to back up a step. He finds that more cute than annoying.

I don't know who the cat belongs to, so I ask a question of my own. "What happened? To me, I mean."

"This psycho shot you in the arm."

"And I lost my memory?" The thought is ridiculous.

"And you fell," he explains. "No skull fracture. Surprised 'cause you smacked into the gurney and floor pretty hard." He holds out his hand. "Robert Chase."

I shake it, wishing I knew my own name to tell him, though I have a feeling he already knows it. Before I can ask him, a beeping sounds and he checks his pager. "Sorry," he apologizes and heads for the door.

No sooner than he is gone from sight does the man from earlier enter. He sits down like he had never left. Was this the man that Dr. Chase had said was freaking out? You couldn't tell from looking at him.

"Who are you?" I ask him again. Might as well pick the conversation up from where we left off.

The kitten mews and jumps over to his lap.

"Dr. Gregory House," he finally answers, stroking the kitten fondly.

"And I am?"

"Dr. James Wilson. And, while we are playing 20 questions, this," he points to the cat, "is Wilson."

"Is…he related to me?" My headache sadly makes that question make sense.

The doctor cracks a smile. "You are smarter than that question," is all he says.

The Australian steps back into the room. He looks quite annoyed with Dr. House. "You paged me?"

"Me? Must have been that other Doctor House that I keep hearing all these nasty things about."

"I saw Julie while I was searching for you. Should I send her in?" His crossed arms are the only sign that he is still annoyed.

I notice they are both looking at me, waiting for me to speak. "Who's Julie?"

"The Missus, the no-longer blushing bride, the sweet with out the sugar…"

"I'm married?" I interrupt him.

"Didn't I just say that?"

"Sure. Let her in." I catch sight of Dr. House limping towards the far side of the bed, near the still-beeping monitors, which put me between him and the door. It doesn't take me long to wish I could do the same…

_TBC_

_A/N An hour til work and a half hour after I am home until the next episode! I can't wait! Guess I will go kill some time writing up the next part :D_


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry this part is so short and that it took me longer than I would have liked to get it up and posted. Also, appologies to those of you who I confused in chapter 6. House was **not** the person holding the gun. He pissed off a patient, or a relative to a patient, who took it personal :P

LonelyWord:pokes you for not leaving an e-mail addy: Thank you for pointing out some things about amnesia. I admit that I hate research, so I try to wing things when I can. Too bad I have quite a few more chapters scribbled out so that a rewrite is out of the question, but I will keep your advice in mind for future use. Much helpful :)

Thanks to the rest of the reviewers out there! Wow, 98 already! o.o You guys rock!

I don't know why I dislike Julie :grins evily:

All notes, disclaimers, etc. are in Chapter 1.

Onwards and forwards!

**Chapter 8**

She would have been pretty if not for the frown distorting her face and the anger flaring in her eyes. "What the Hell is this?" she begins and the Australian quickly makes his exit, gone before the door could completely close. I wonder if I should fear for my life with only a cripple to save me. "I was told you got shot trying to save a life. Turns out it was yours." She looks up at Dr. House.

"Your sweetness is overpowering. I can prescribe something for that," he replies to her glare.

Wilson seems to be the bravest of us all and he jumps over to me and faces Julie, tail swishing and tickling my chin.

"I told you I was allergic to cats. Why haven't you gotten rid of that thing yet?" Her nose crinkles.

"Real good first impression, Julie."

She turns her glaring daggers away from me and back to Dr. House. I find I can breathe easier now. "What?" her voice falters.

"He has amnesia." He sounds like he enjoys passing along that tidbit of information a little too much.

Their voices echo in my head and I close my eyes against the throb. The doctor is standing next to me in am instant, cool hand against my forehead. "Pain?"

"Headache."

"What's wrong with him?" Julie asks. She seems at a loss now that the focus has turned away from her.

"Nothing to worry about. He gets headaches often after hearing you yell."

She is glaring again. My eyes are closed, but I can tell. "I'll come back later," she says, words short and clipped.

"Please don't," I say softly, but she is already gone. I crack open an eye. "How am I going to live with her after all this?"

"My couch is always free."

"What?"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

_Wouldn't be the first time?_ First time sleeping on his couch, avoiding my wife, or both? My head throbs again, like it is reminding me, rather rudely, that I am still in pain no matter how I try to ignore it. One would have thought that I screamed instead of just flinching, because Dr. House's hand returns to my forehead and the other to my shoulder at lightning speed.

"How bad?" he asks.

"The anvil chorus."

"Base drums?"

"The works."

He injects something into my IV. I don't have to wait long for the pain to fade and exhaustion to curl up in it's place. Dr. House settles down into a chair. I want to shoo him away, but my voice seems to already be asleep. And my last thought before dreamland is that nothing _would_ be able to get him to leave.

TBC

This is the last chapter told from Wilson's POV. Hope it was a nice little change :-)


	9. Chapter 9

So sorry about the delay! The next chapter is being a pain and I like to keep a chapter ahead as a nice cushion :-)

LonelyWord--Thanks for the link! Some very interesting information there!

Sorry not as funny as this story started out as. Bitmore humor in the next chapters. Hard to crack jokes when Wilson needs comforting:-)

Anywho, enjoy :D

**Chapter 9**

Wilson opens his eyes. His eyes had closed to a similar scene. Except now Dr. House is asleep, with the kitten curled up on his shoulder. A smile tugs at the corner of Wilson's lips. There is just something about that strange man…

The door opens, scattering his thoughts. Wilson first notices the low-cut blouse, then his eyes dart up to the face. Cuddy glances at House and whispers to avoid waking him; he gets cranky if he doesn't get enough sleep. "You two aren't pulling my leg?"

Wilson wants to make a one-leg-shorter-than-the-other joke, but decides it unwise. "I hope this isn't my usual brand of humor," he says instead, wondering if it is.

"Closer to House's, actually."

The lump on the chair groans. "I knew it wouldn't take you two long to start talking about me." Dr. House reaches into his pocket and retrieves his bottle of pills, shaking one onto his palm and swallowing the pill dry. "Get use to it," he says to Wilson after catching him staring, shaking the bottle for emphasis. He turns towards Cuddy, making a show of looking at her chest. "Looks like we both got something pleasant to wake up to."

She sighs, feigning annoyance. She knows House just wants to be alone with his friend, so she decides to give him his way, as always. "Glad you are doing better, Dr. Wilson," she says on her way out the door.

"Dr House--"

"House."

"Pardon?"

"Call me House. The Doctor part is only to use used in roll playing instances." He laughs at the look on Wilson's face. "I see your mind is still in the same place it always has been; the gutter."

Wilson shakes his head. He takes a breath and continues, "House. Why was my wife so angry at you?"

"Because you like me more than her." He sounds pleased of that simply-put fact.

"She also said I saved your life?"

"Oh, she misunderstood. _This_ Wilson saved me," he says, poking the soft furball still curled up on his shoulder. "Don't feel bad. You _did_ help. Besides, you have had more than your share of saving my life."

"So we go back a long ways?"

House ponders. "10 years? More? You were always the best with dates. Anytime I asked you could tell me how long ago we had met, down to the day. Maybe even the hour, but that is just creepy," he adds, mock shivering.

Wilson sinks deeper into his pillow, willing himself to not fall asleep. "So what happened? I was told that I was shot and fell."

"What is this, story hour?"

"If you insist." He gives House The Smile. The look that House can never refuse.

House grabs at the Wilson on his shoulder and pulls until his little claws let go of his shirt. The kitten squeaks until he is dumped on the bed. "Wilson here was making me late for work. He wouldn't let me leave. I called you to hold the little rat back so I could leave."

"Wait," Wilson holds up his good hand. "You couldn't get past your own cat?"

"He was sitting in front of the door. Besides, you _came_."

"And let me guess: Julie was mad?"

"I heard her throw the phone at you. Anyways, after I left, Wilson somehow talked you into taking him to the hospital with you."

"He what?"

"You'll have to remember that bit on your own. He _is_ very persuasive when he wants to be." House pauses. The next bit is hard for him to think about. "There was a relative to a patient I can't even remember…upset even though I didn't kill anyone that time. He pulled a gun. Funny how time slows down some times," he muses quietly, then continues, voice still low. "I saw his finger twitch on the trigger. I think he was waiting for me to give him a reason to shoot, and getting rather impatient. Next we both know, Wilson is hissing at his feet and you aren't too far behind, minus the hissing. At first I think he is going to shoot the cat, but then the gun points towards you. I was relieved—relieved!—that the bullet only hit your arm. But then you fell. Your head hit the gurney. And you didn't move."

"Wow."

"Yeah," House agrees and they both fall silent.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Eep! So sorry that it has been so long since I updated! Been a real hectic week and I haven't felt like typing much.

The kitten cuteness will be back in full force next chapter!

Notes, disclaimer, etc are all in chapter 1, if I remember correctly.

**Chapter 10**

"Congratulations! I heard the news!" House says, entering the room with Wilson on his shoulder. "You can finally use the little boys room all by yourself!"

"A little louder, I don't think the patients down the hall heard you."

"It will give them something to work towards."

Wilson rolls his eyes. Then he bites his lip.

"What's wrong?"

"What makes you think something is wrong?" He not-so-casually scratches at the edge of the bandage on his arm.

House crosses his arms. And stares.

Wilson does his best to ignore him…for all of 10 seconds. With a grumble, he pushes the covers away and slowly sits up.

"Don't leave on my account."

"Don't flatter yourself. Bathroom." As he stands, Wilson leaps down from House's shoulder and tumbles on the bed, curling up in the warm vacated spot.

House stands next to him and offers a hand to help Wilson to his feet, which he accepts. "Ears pop with the change in elevation?" House asks when Wilson seems unsteady.

"Something like that." He looks across the room at the tiny bathroom. "Who designed this place and put the bathroom way over there?"

"Blame our decorator who put the bed way over _here_."

Wilson takes a few careful steps. Once he is sure that he wasn't going to topple over, he lets go of House's shoulder and walks on his own.

House starts to follow him into the bathroom, but is shoved away and the door is closed in his face. "That was rude," he says to his kitten, who is cuddled on the bed ignoring everything.

Shortly after the bathroom accomplishment, Wilson is able to return home. To the wife he barely even knows.

00000

The next morning over breakfast, Wilson turns to Julie. "Why don't you like House?" He knows it is rude, but he really wants to know and can find no delicate way to ask.

The spatula that Julie had been ready to wash clatters noisily into the sink. Even with amnesia his first thoughts are of House. She turns around to face him and again Wilson wants to flee. "Because all you ever want to do is talk about him," she replies icily. She wants to say more, but hesitates.

"So you hate the man because of me? There has to be more to it than just that."

"Look," she sighs. "I have tried to be friends with him, but men like that have no friends."

"Except for me."

"Exactly," she over exaggerates a nod.

"And this proves your point, how?"

"Because of him you have no friends either. And, while you may be his friend, he is not yours."

"I've known him since med school!"

_A flash of an uncomfortable young man sitting alone at a table. Others mill about, most at least 5 years older. Some glance his direction and whisper to their friends. How could someone who looks like he is 15 make it in the doctoring world?_

_Jimmy Wilson is 20. He curses the same face that got him into movies at half price until just recently. If his fellow doctors wouldn't take him seriously, would the patients? He pushes his food around on the tray, eating it is far from his thoughts._

_A lunch tray is set down from a few inches too high. The man who dropped it seems not to care about the noise as he sits down in front of it. "People are idiots," he says._

_Jimmy looks up at him, not sure if he is being talked to or not. He recalls seeing the man around a few times this past week. He had also heard whispers, the word 'brilliant' often among them. "Excuse me?"_

"_People are idiots," he repeats. "Present selves included."_

_Jimmy rests an elbow on the table, fist against his cheek. He motions with the other hand for the man to continue._

"_You're an idiot for letting the little bastards discourage you from doing what you want to do."_

"_They aren't discouraging me."_

"_Right."_

"_Right. And you?"_

"_I'm an idiot for spending part of my hour lunch here amongst all these idiots when I can be across the street eating at this nice little diner that serves decent food." At that, he stands and leaves as quickly as he arrived, his untouched lunch tray left behind._

Wilson opens his eyes, the memory gone. And so is Julie.


	11. Chapter 11

Getting this chapter out a bit sooner than I planned. The next one is being a bit of a pain, unfortunately, and my cat doesn't want to get off my lap, so typing is hard, hehe. Has a bit more of Wilson the cat and another flashback, which are very fun to write.

Hope you all enjoy:)

**Chapter 11 **

Driving is out of the question, so Wilson looks up House's address and calls a cab. It's the weekend and he hopes the man is home. He knocks, hears a muffled "Come in," then steps inside. Before he can take another step, a streaking ball of fur pounces on his shoe. He almost falls over to keep from stepping on him. "Wilson!"

The kitten rolls over on his back, the undone shoestring still gripped in his claws and his mouth.

"Training him to be a guard cat," House says as he limps from the kitchen, steaming cup of coffee in his hand. "You haven't even been home 24 hours. Already a fight with Julie?"

"I remembered the day I met you." Wilson doesn't want to talk about Julie. He takes off his shoe and leaves it with the cat, then goes to sit on the couch.

House hides his smile behind the coffee cup, taking a sip. Wilson had always seemed to be drawn to that piece of furniture. "Is that a good thing? I don't think I had left a good first impression."

"At least you talked to me. Do you play?" He changed the subject again and nodded over at the piano.

"Sometimes. You over your shyness to ask me to play you a tune?"

"For now."

Wilson tries to drag the shoe closer to the humans. He gives up and leaves it by the door.

House hands Wilson the coffee cup and limps over to the piano, running his fingers lightly over the keys. "Either Wilson have a request?"

"Something relaxing?"

"Mew!"

House turns to see both Wilsons looking at each other. "By unanimous vote," he announces, and then he begins to play.

Wilson sets the mug down on the coffee table, leans back against the cushions, and closes his eyes…and remembers…

"_You're taking the couch with you?"_

"_Of course! You may like it more, but it _is_ mine! You're making it flat by sleeping on it so much."_

"_More comfortable than my bed," Jimmy grumbles._

"_You need yourself a woman" Greg grumbles. "Maybe now you will visit me often."_

"_Drive over a thousand miles just to sleep on your couch?"_

"_I was hoping that there would be more to it than that. Plus stranger things have happened." Before Greg turns to go, he holds out his hand. "Doctor Wilson."_

"_Doctor House." Jimmy shakes his hand in farewell._

_They had tried to keep in touch, but Greg's work and Jimmy's further studies took up a lot of their free time. Jimmy was always amused to hear that Greg got fired for badmouthing his boss, then concerned to hear he was fired a second time. Nothing like a warning signal to all the other hospitals in the country. The letters stopped altogether when Greg got fired a third time._

_A year later, Greg House is relaxing at home. He heaves a sigh as he sits in front of his much-loved piano. Before he got the chance to grace they keys with his fingers, someone knocks on the door. All of the irritation from the past days and weeks of trying to get along with his boss and patients come flooding back to him in a rush. He gets up and slams open the door, ready to give the person outside the scare of his life. "Jimmy?"_

"_Couch!" Wilson cries, stumbling past the stunned doctor and collapsing onto it._

"_Glad to see you too." House closes the door after he finally realizes he is not imagining his best friend snuggling up on his couch. "Where's Erika?"_

"_Moved to Washington," he mumbles into the cushions._

"_Ah."_

_He quickly moves his feet before Greg can sit on them._

"_So she finally left your sorry ass?"_

"_If I weren't so happy to see his damn couch, I would kick yours."_

"_I'm all a quiver."_

"_Good."_

_Jimmy stayed a week after wife number one before he drove back home and returned to work. After wife number two, he stayed a month, during which time House suggested he apply for the opening at the newest hospital he was employed at…the PPTH._

"_Wilson," Greg greets his friend on Jimmy's first day with an outstretched hand._

"_House," he greets back and pulls Greg in for a manly hug._

_Then came Wife Number Three, House's Stacy, then the infarction. And, as they say, the rest is history._


	12. Chapter 12

So sorry again for the long time no update! I really should post the other stuff I have written up here as proof that I have been doing something besides lazing around :P

I know this chapter is short--painfully so :( But I just had to get it out of the way. I was thinking about just cutting it out since it really has nothing to do with the next chapter, but I kinda like it :) Hope someone out there feels the same!

**Chapter 12**

His memory is starting to return! Wilson smiles, then starts to remember something else….

…"You kissed me."

The smooth notes all collide with one another in a very off chord. Which means Wilson said that aloud. "What?" House finally asks, turning around.

"You kissed me?" Wilson is blushing, not wanting to ask but having to know.

"Party. Seven years ago. We were both drunk. You didn't remember the next day…why are you remembering now?" House keeps his voice calm and cautious.

"We were on this couch?" He phrases that as a question.

"Sure that wasn't some weird sex dream you had?" House turns back to the piano and picks up the tune again, playing quietly.

Wilson groans. "More like nightmare."

"I'm hurt," House pretends to pout. After a minute he stops playing and asks, "Is your memory back?"

"Mostly," he answers, nodding slowly.

"Welcome back, Jimmy."

Wilson leans his head back and stairs up at the ceiling, then looks back at his friend with narrowed eyes. "Wait, what is this about you kissing me seven years ago…?"

House smiles at his piano and continues to play.

TBC!


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